Monday, November 19, 2012

“Don’t Publish Ages”

Every now and then, in researching those dull, dry public
documents, you run across stray marks and enigmatic notes that make you wonder
what the full story is behind those little slips of the pen.

In researching the Snider family heritage in Perry County, Ohio, I’ve now moved into the twentieth century, where government records are
clear, detailed, and—thanks to the perseverance of organizations like
FamilySearch—readily available.

It was a snap pursuing the relatively recent family history
of our Snider line when I got to Bertha Metzger, my husband’s grandmother. Born in 1904, Bertha lived a long life that spanned nearly the entire century. Her
wedding in 1926 was recent enough to be documented using a format that provided
all the detail that a genealogist appreciates: information on date and place of birth,
parents names—including mother’s maiden name—and sometimes even additional
specifications on the parents of both bride and groom.

Not that that was a surprise to me, since we’ve already
ascertained this information, but let me affirm that Bertha’s marriage record
provided every single one of these items.

And then some.

For whatever reason, after the marriage license was fully
completed in easily-readable ink, someone took a pencil and marked a note at
the top of the file.

The license itself still retained that old-fashioned charm.
A pre-printed format, it must have been drawn up in a more circumspect age. “In
the matter of John Flowers and Bertha Metzger,” the document began, “To the
Honorable Judge of the Probate Court of said County, The undersigned
respectfully make application for a marriage license….”

The wedding did indeed occur as planned. The local paper of
record, Zanesville’s
The Times Recorder saw to it that it
was duly noted in their Wednesday, May 19, 1926, issue:

Unlike some other newspaper articles I know of, this little
bit of reporting got it right: all the details that were supposed to be
included were there. And all the details that were supposed to be omitted were
absent.

The newspaper editor followed directions. For some reason,
someone felt it would be the better part of discretion to leave off one
customary detail in publication—for on the marriage license application, across
the top of the page, someone had penciled in “Don’t Publish Ages.”

Why?

While Bertha was twenty one years of age—well within legal
parameters for marrying—perhaps the issue was the age of her groom. Her
intended, one John Ambrose Flowers, was nearly twenty years her senior. A
rugged coal miner and farmer, John was a working man before Bertha was even
born.

Perhaps it was the delicate sensibilities of the era—such times
as preferred to “respectfully make application” for marriage—that required the
discretion of bypassing customary notice in cases such as this.

You definitely have a love for stories--as I've seen after having stopped by your own blog the other night--so I can understand the questions. Unfortunately, several of those questions will have to remain unanswered for the time being, mainly because I have no way (yet) of finding out, myself! I can say John Flowers had no children from a previous marriage. This was his first marriage, as it was hers.

I don't think I've ever seen that written across any of the marriage records I've researched. How funny! I also have a May-December romance in my family history. And the subjects of this romance? My own dear Grandpa Debs and his first wife Sarah. He was 14 years YOUNGER than her. When they married, he was 22 and she was 36.

It was a strange notation. It's not like there aren't others who have been in similar situations--my own parents being a case in point. Perhaps it was the insular nature of the small community in which they lived.

That is curious. I've seen similar type age spans a few times in my various lines, but never anything indicating that they didn't want ages published. The questions never cease do they? Very interesting post.

Michelle, when we had first found this document with the note, we had thought perhaps it was due to the bride's young age. However, when I took a look at it this time, I realized that was a faulty assumption. She is of appropriate marrying age, especially for that time period. Who know who decided to indicate these instructions. A story we'll never know, I suspect.

In my mother's generation, all the women were sensitive about their ages. Not the men, though. But you never asked a woman her age. My mother always gave her birth year as one year later, so that she would be one year "younger." The wrong year even appeared on her death certificate. Well, OK, if it made her happier, Fair enough. Maybe all the forward-dated births on the old censuses have the same purpose?

Mariann, I always assumed, when I saw those census reports with skewed ages, that someone either wanted to make herself seem younger, or her husband seem older. I think it wasn't your mother's preference alone, but that of an entire era (or strata within that age). Can hardly blame her for going with the flow on that one...

Maybe someone working in the records office knew the family of the bride or the groom and thought it was prudent to not make a big thing of the age . I , myself, do not think it's unusually large gap for that time period .

Magda, that's an interesting possible scenario. And while that type of age gap is unusual for the general population, my own parents had that same type of age difference. Interesting: considering that time period's norm. Good point!

About Me

It is my contention that, after a lifetime, one of the greatest needs people have is to be remembered. They want to know: have I made a difference?
I write because I can't keep for myself the gifts others have entrusted to me. Through what I've already been given--though not forgetting those to whom I must pass this along--from family I receive my heritage; through family I leave a legacy. With family I weave a tapestry. These are my strands.